


A Sea of Golden Leaves

by saltandlimes



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Autumn, First Kiss, Getting lost in the woods, M/M, Soft Kylux, again im being serious with that tag, benarmie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8434438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: In which Ben and Armie sneak off the Academy grounds, watch a sunset, and find out that late autumn nights are far colder than they expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt on tumblr:
>
>> Ben and Armie have definitely gotten lost while exploring/ showing off and wandering too far away from the school, and it was definitely cold and spooky and they were definitely trying to be casual about how much they needed some warmth and comfort while they found their way back. 

“Ben are you really sure we should be out here?” Armie asks for what has to be the fourth time since they scrambled down into the ravine at the back of the Academy grounds. It’s on the opposite side of the school from their usual tree and field, and Ben still hasn’t told Hux where they’re going. He’d simply grabbed Armie’s arm as soon as classes ended and dragged him off to hide behind the gym. 

_Come with me_ , he’d said. _I have something I want to show you._

And now they’ve been trudging through the woods for half an hour, late autumn sunlight slanting through the trees to pool on the ground in golden rings of light. The air is cool, but it feels nice on Armie’s face after a long day inside, staring at his datapad. Ben looks back at him. 

“It’s just a little bit farther,” he breathes, voice hushed in the stillness of the wood. Armie sighs, but nods. He knows Ben well enough at this point to know that there’s no dissuading him once he gets an idea in his head. Exploding stars and shattered planets couldn’t stop him if they got in his way. So Armie just keeps walking, glancing sideways every so often to catch a glimpse of Ben’s determined face. He’s looking at Ben, of course, when suddenly an arm is thrown across his chest. He stops short, almost tumbling to the ground. 

“We’re here.” Then Ben is grabbing his hand again, tugging him off to the right where Armie sees a break in the trees. They step out of the wood and Armie gasps, breath hiccuping in his chest. 

They’re on the edge of a steep cliff. There, laid out in front of them, is the wood. Miles and miles of it, orange brown autumn leaves seeming like a carpet of gold. And the suns, far away, are sinking below the horizon. They’ve dyed the sky a fantastic swirl of pink and orange, red and rust. And above it all, the creeping purple of dusk, slowly worming its way down to touch the hills far below them.

“D’you like it?” Ben asks. Armie draws a deep breath, tries to find his voice, wrench it free of where it’s hiding, deep in his chest. It’s lodged there, caught and held by the beauty of this place. 

He nods.

“I found it when I was exploring. You know, when you were gone on that training mission? I didn’t have a lot to do, so I spent time out here. And I thought… I thought you might like it. Y’know, because…” Ben’s babbling, but he trails off as Armie glances back at him, away from the fiery death of the day. 

“I love it, Ben,” he whispers. Ben nods, almost curt, but Armie can see the smile behind his eyes. Then he looks back at where the dual suns are fighting for dominance over the last moments of daylight. They’ve lit up the few clouds with more colors than Armie has ever imagined. And here, so high up that he almost feels he could stretch out a finger and touch them, the light is a solid thing. It surrounds him, and Armie has the strangest feeling - that he and Ben are alone in the universe. Small, isolated humans in a sea of golden leaves, and that if he were to scream out his name, his very being, nothing would ever answer him. Because there is nothing but this, this cold, shining place, and the wide expanse of the world around them. 

Ben’s fingertips brush lightly over his shoulder, and Hux looks away from the sky again. Ben’s face is slack, mouth gone soft and lopsided with wonder, and Armie wonders if Ben feels it too. He must, must feel so much more. For a moment, Armie wants to stretch out his hand, prod and poke at the pink curve of Ben’s lip and find out if the wonder lives there as well. But he doesn’t. He never does. Instead he clenches his fist at his side, feels his nails bite into his palm. The suns are falling back below the horizon, the larger one tumbling fast down to the billowing sea of trees. 

He shivers. 

Ben starts at the motion, glances at the chronometer on his wrist. He shakes his head slightly, and Armie quirks an eyebrow at him. 

“We should head back. I don’t want to get stuck out here when it’s completely dark.” Armie nods. They aren’t dressed for it, not with how cold the nights have started getting. He spares one more glance for the bloody gleam of the sky and then turns back to the trees, makes his way underneath them. 

“That was beautiful, Ben. Thank you.” Thanks don’t always come easily to him. He knows that. But Ben has always been different, ever since that first time they met. Ever since Ben’s mother decided that her son should help escort Academy students on their trip around the Core. Ever since Ben had turned up his nose at the rough Outer Rim students, traveling the Core as nothing more than yet another way for the New Republic to show how generous they are being to the remnants of the Empire. 

Ever since Ben had slipped into their ship as the Academy cadets had flown away from the Core, stowing himself inside in a desperate bid to escape his fate as a Jedi padawan. Ever since the moment that the Supreme Leader had said that Ben was to train at the Academy, their greatest coup, the greatest defector since the formation of the New Republic.

Ever since Ben broke the noses of three cadets who called him Jedi scum. Ever since he’d picked Armie up off a dusty floor when those same cadets had targeted Armie for being willing to talk to Ben. 

Ben has always been different. 

And so Armie presses close behind him as Ben leads them back through the woods, as Ben tosses him a smile in response. It’s getting colder now, the shadows long and jagged under cover of the trees. The leaves are wet under their feet, last night’s rain not quite burned off by the weak autumn suns. It smells of twilight, the odd rot-must of the forest edging towards darkness. Ben glances sideways, looks back and forth. 

They’ve been walking for a few minutes now, the cliff edge far out of sight behind them. And Ben is stopped, staring hard at a tree. He steps closer, runs one hand over the gnarled bark. 

“Ben?” Armie asks. Ben is stalking around the small clearing they’ve stopped in, pausing to check each tree. There’s no answer. 

“Ben, is there something wrong?” He asks again, and this time he can’t keep the sharpness out of his voice. 

“Ah…” Ben breathes. He traces a finger over the silver bark of a narrow tree, almost caressing it. Then he turns to Armie. “Ah… I… think… we may have gone slightly out of our way.”

“We’re lost.” Armie’s voice is flat. He can feel the hairs on the back of his neck starting to stand up. A million different chances - Ben’s body at the edge of a ravine, broken, him crying beside it; them, their arms wrapped around their bellies, starving; him, curled in the curve of the bowl of a tree, Ben standing guard as the night stalks them… 

“Well… no. Not lost.” The visions disappear, slipping away as fast as they’d come at the surety in Ben’s voice. “Just a little out of our way. It’s going to take us longer to get back than I expected.” Armie breathes out in a long shuddering sigh. That’s fine. That’s not a problem. He pulls his jacket tighter about himself and nods. 

“Lead on, then.” He tucks his hands under his armpits as they start walking again. The chill is starting to leach into his finger joints. They keep going.

And going.

And going.

After what has to be an hour, Armie clears his throat loudly enough that Ben stops walking. He has to wait a moment for his teeth to stop chattering before he can get out the question he’s wanted to ask for the past fifteen minutes. 

“A-are you s-sure you know where we’re going?” Ben nods, starts to reply. But then he pauses, mouth open and lips stretched around his words. Instead of speaking, he steps closer and rubs a hand over Armie’s shaking arms. 

“Are you ok?” He asks. Armie nods. He’s fine. Just fine. It’s not as though the woods are completely dark now, or anything. It’s not as though there isn’t something making rustling noises just over to their left. It could be anything. It doesn’t have to be something hostile. _It doesn’t have to be._ He feels himself shake a little, shiver running up his spine to make his shoulders wrench and jerk in Ben’s grip. 

“You’re not ok. You’re freezing. Look, I know we’ll be in trouble, but why don’t we stop? Build a fire or something. We’ve got at least an hour left to walk, and it’s only going to get darker and colder.” 

“No!” Armie’s voice is oddly high pitched in his own ears. Something thuds somewhere behind them and he edges closer to Ben. “No, we should keep going.” Ben pushes him backward, holds tight to both his shoulders. 

“You’re freezing, Armie. And we’re likely to fall down a hill or trip and break something with how dark it’s gotten. Come on. There’s dry enough wood here, and we’ll both be happier by a fire.” The thudding is moving farther away. Armie shivers again. It is getting terribly chilly. 

“Ok. Fine.” Ben drops his hands off of Armie’s shoulders almost immediately. He sets to finding dry wood to burn and Armie follows after him, shaking hands clenched around kindling. When they’ve finally gathered enough to burn, they move close to a tree that still seems green and growing even in the late autumn. Its spicy branches almost brush the ground, evergreen and dark in the late twilight gloom. Ben tosses down the wood he’s gathered and sets to hollowing out a small pit for Armie to build the fire in. It takes a few tries for Armie to get the kindling going after he and Ben have jointly built the cone shaped base for it. But soon enough, it starts to spit and crackle.

Under the branches of the evergreen, the fire quickly warms up the air enough that Armie stops shaking. He turns to Ben, watches the glow dance over the strange slopes of Ben’s face. 

“Did you plan this?” He asks. “Did you plan for us to end up out here over night?” He doesn’t actually think Ben did. Of course he doesn’t. But there’s always a chance. Ben does things like that, things without thinking. 

“No! Armie! I did not _plan_ for us to get stuck out in the woods at night.” Ben’s voice is sharp, and he wraps his arms around his knees, pulling himself back from Armie. Armie shakes his head. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Ben.” 

“ _Of course_ you didn’t. That’s your fucking problem, Armie. You don’t ever _mean anything_. It’s like you’re just a mass of fucking sarcasm and anger, and there’s never anything read below the surface.” Armie recoils, feels his chest tighten like he’s been hit with something. 

“Ben… Ben, what?” He can’t even phrase a question.

“You think I don’t notice?” Ben’s lips curl up into a snarl. “You think I can’t tell how you just hide yourself away and never let anyone see you? You think I don’t get tired of it sometimes? The endless witty comments? The constant jokes? You’re always fucking prodding at me, and sometimes I wonder if you even like me.”

Armie can’t breathe. He knows, somewhere at the back of his mind, that they’re tired. They’re scared, it’s late, it’s dark, it’s cold. But all that doesn’t matter right now. No, all that matters is the feeling as though ice has slid inside him, is wrapping itself around his heart, squeezing too tight. He struggles to his feet. He can’t stay here. He can’t. 

If Ben doesn’t know…

If he’s ruined this…

He’s outside the circle of the tree branches before he can even think what he’s doing, feet stumbling on the broken forest floor. A twig slaps across his face as he fumbles away from the firelight, and he feels his cheek split open at its grasping fingers. Then he’s off again, half falling as he flings himself away. He needs to just…

He needs to be somewhere else. He needs to leave, before Ben can say any more. He can’t hear it. Can’t know what else Ben has been saving up. _Can’t hear that Ben doesn’t want him…_

Armie trips over something, hands flying out just quickly enough to stop his face from hitting the soft forest floor. Even with its covering of dead leaves, the ground is hard, and his palms ache where they slam into the dirt. He pulls himself up to sit, knees to his chest.

The first sob tears its way free before he even knows what’s happening. The tears sting as they course over the cut on his cheek, and Armie has to bite his lip at the hurt of it. Then he’s hiccupping, great awful sounds that fight their way up from his chest to shiver loud in the night air. He wraps his arms around his knees. Takes a deep, gasping breath and tries to quiet himself. 

It takes long moments before he can hear anything but the sound of his own whimpers. But then, then, as his breathing slows, he hears it again. The slow thump of something heavy making its way through the forest. Armie can feel himself shaking, horror at Ben’s words turning to the blind terror of the night. The fear of the dark and the thing that hides in it, and Armie has always been powerless against that which he cannot understand. 

He starts to rock back and forth, trying to keep warm, trying to keep calm. He has no idea what direction the fire is, and if Ben would even let him come back to the circle of light if Armie found it. The heavy thudding noise seems like it’s getting closer. Armie forces himself to his feet, knees smarting from their earlier sudden impact on the forest floor. The cut on his face still stings, salt tightening his skin, eyes aching with more tears. He turns in a slow circle, trying to figure out what direction the noise is coming from. 

It comes closer now, somewhere off to his right. Armie’s stomach ties itself in knots. There aren’t very many large predators on this planet, but the ones that do walk the woods are vicious. He balls up his hands into fists. Whatever is out there, he’ll give it a good fight. 

He takes a slow step towards the noise, legs shaking underneath him. 

One more slow step. 

Then, all of an instant, there’s a bright glow from off to his left. Firelight gleam…

“Ben!?” Armie exclaims, all thoughts of quiet abandoned. Ben steps up next to him, a blazing brand in one hand. 

“Armie! Are you alright? I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Force, Armie, I’ve been so worried…” Ben trails off, ducking his face at the last words. 

“Can I… I mean… is it ok if we go back to the fire?” Armie asks. Ben nods. 

The walk back is short, especially with the light from the makeshift torch Ben’s carrying. Armie brushes off his hands on the way, delighted to see that the skin isn’t broken. When they finally get back to the clearing, to the evergreen and the fire, he scrubs futilely at the tear tracks on his cheeks. There’s no way he can clean all the evidence of his weakness of his face without water. 

Ben ducks into the hollow with the fire, and Armie pauses before scrambling into the embrace of the tree branches. 

“Is it ok if I sit with you?” Something close to confusion flits across Ben’s face, but he nods. Armie slides inside but makes sure to sit well away from Ben, gives Ben the greater share of the fire’s warmth. It’s only fair that way. 

“Look, Ben, I need to say something.” Ben shakes his head. 

“No, Armie, you don’t. I was out of line. I’m sorry I said that stuff.” Armie holds up a hand to stop him. 

“I do. I can’t… I mean… I’m sorry. I’m a jerk, not just to you. I’m cruel and cold and petty and you shouldn’t have to bear it. You’re… Ben, you’re like nobody I’ve ever known. You’re a jerk too,” Ben laughs and Armie smiles quickly. But he takes a deep breath and keeps going. If he doesn’t say this now, he may never say it. “But you deserve better than what I give you. You deserve better friends. And I’d have said it before now but… I’m just so afraid. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I… I haven’t wanted to lose that. But I guess I’m just not made to be friends. Not made for this, or I’m broken, or wrong, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that. You _don’t_ have to deal with that.” He feels his nails dig into his palms again, pain coursing through his arms, grounding him. 

“And so you won’t. When we get back, I’ll leave you alone. No more snide comments, no more sarcasm, no more anything. You won’t have to see me again except at classes. You deserve better than to have to deal with me. You should…” Armie cuts off. He can’t talk. For a moment, he doesn’t understand what’s happening. 

Lips. There are lips on his. Ben’s lips.

Ben is kissing him. 

Armie gasps, and he feels Ben’s tongue swipe across his lower lip. Feels the warmth of Ben’s mouth, and it’s a little like a dream, filtering through his bones to flutter at his heart. It’s like the heat of summer and the gleam of the sunset on the fields of golden leaves. It’s like the warmest sip of whiskey, stolen from his father’s office. He presses back against Ben’s mouth. 

Ben has one of Armie’s lips between his own, and he’s sucking on it, light pulsing drags. The softest whisper of teeth grazing the inside. Armie wants to reach out, cradle Ben’s head. He wants to lose himself here, never find his way back to reality, but drown in the golden-light sweetness of Ben’s mouth. 

He pulls away. 

“Ben? What?” he gasps. 

“Armie. Armie…” Ben’s fingers are a light caress against his cheek. “I want to deal with you. I want to listen to you be a sarcastic prick. I want to hear your sarcasm and your spite. I have a horrible temper. You know that. I was wrong to go off at you before. Just as you’re wrong to always shut me out. But that isn’t what’s important.” Armie can feel tears starting in his eyes again. One spills down his cheek, but before he can swipe at it, Ben is smoothing it away. 

“What is important?” Ben smiles, predator’s smirk in the darkness. 

“You. Me. Nothing else in this fucking world, in this galaxy, but you and me. You can be an ass to everyone in the entire fucking universe, but here, us, we matter. They’re all just leaves in autumn, but us? We’re real. You want to know what matters, Armie? I want you. That’s what matters. Forever, whatever way you’ll have me. And you want me. I know it. I can feel it.” Armie nods, presses his face into Ben’s palm. 

“Only us. We’re real. Only us.” And with the dark close around them, the firelight flickering off Ben’s face and the close air under the evergreen, Armitage Hux begins to believe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go, as always, to [artyaouter](http://artyaouter.tumblr.com/) for the invaluable advice on the draft. 
> 
> Also to [theweddingofthefoxes](http://theweddingofthefoxes.tumblr.com/), without whom this Benarmie AU would not exist. 
> 
> Find more of this AU [here](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/tagged/benarmie) or come talk to me [@saltandlimes](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
